Overcoming Adversity
by CeceAsh
Summary: *ONE-SHOT* Beca's life isn't going remotely as she dreamt it would be. Stuck in a job that she doesn't enjoy, and living in a lonely, empty apartment by herself. Just when she thinks things can't be turned around, Chloe enters her life in surprising circumstances and helps her more than the girl knows. Depressed!Beca & Homeless!Chloe.


****TRIGGER WARNING: DEALS WITH DEPRESSION AND MENTIONS THOUGHTS OF SUICIDE BRIEFLY.****

****A/N 1: I know next to nothing about depression other than the few things I read for some research, so Beca's portrayal is most likely a bit off from reality. But it's a story I worked hard on, so hopefully it at least turned out okay for you all. I hope you enjoy it. ****

****A/N 2: This is unbeta-ed, so as always, there are bound to be mistakes I didn't catch, and I apologize in advance.****

****DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Pitch Perfect characters, just borrowed them for a little while.****

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><p>"<em>People are always blaming their circumstances for what they are. I don't believe in circumstances. The people who get on in this world are the people who get up and look for the circumstances they want, and if they can't find them, make them." -<em>_George Bernard Shaw__, __Mrs. Warren's Profession_

Every window tells a story. Across the street, the man in 2B can be seen scrambling around his kitchen, doing his best to set the table and make it look perfect, whilst cooking noodles on the stove as he awaits the arrival of his date. The girl in 6C can be seen cuddling on her loveseat with a tabby cat in her lap as she watches TV, the bright glow illuminating her face in the dark apartment. In old couple in 1A are celebrating their fifty-first wedding anniversary, and after some coaxing, the man gets his wife to join him in dancing around the living room to a tune that is playing on the turntable behind them.

Not everyone is happy though. A young couple in 9D are having another fight, the third one just this week. This time it seems more one-sided than the times before. There is a lot of gesturing coming from the woman, while the man stays still, almost statuesque with his arms folded over his chest and eyes on the floor. And then there is the single Mother in 7E. She takes her child off of the kitchen island and spanks his bottom, then scolds him with one finger pointed at his face. She's exhausted from her long day at work and doesn't need her son getting into trouble when he should be in bed.

Most of the other windows on this side of the building are closed for the night. It's nearly nine o'clock, and Beca is bored out of her mind, which seems to be becoming the usual for her at night when her brain can't focus on a task for too long, so she sits backwards on her sofa that is up against her window and looks out across the street to the building identical to hers. She's only lived here for a week, just moved in and is her first place she's ever had to herself. Fresh out of college with degrees that she will most likely never use, she's just been hired at an old book store a few blocks away.

No doubt her Father is going to have a coronary when he finds out that she's not even trying to get a good paying job where she can work her way up a ladder of promotions. She's not her Father's daughter, and he just hasn't accepted that yet, and she doubts he ever will. Beca's always been, and will always be a Momma's girl. And she will always wonder why a free spirit such as her fell in love and had a kid with a stiff, humorless man she is forced to call her Father. The older woman was the only thing they had in common, and always had to play the referee between the two.

Now that she was gone, there was nothing stopping him from doing everything he can to take over her life. Well, now that she was out of college and out of his house, living in an apartment that she was paying for herself, completely self-reliant, there was nothing that he could force her into. It was a great feeling, finally being free. All those years she had been under his reign, and now, she was her own boss. She controlled her life, and it was an amazing feeling. And nothing could ever make her give in and go back to they way things were. The only thing that could make things better now was a companion.

It didn't have to be a romantic relationship, she was more than happy just to have a friendship, but it was hard. She wasn't the most likable person, with her cynicism on life in general, her (irrational?) hatred of Rom-Coms, or lack of social interactions that weren't awkward as hell. Sure, she'd made a couple friends in college, but she was in an entirely new state now, and she just wasn't very good at texting people back. What did they expect her to say when they message her complaining about a broken sink, or loud neighbors? She just wasn't good at anything that wasn't music related.

She wished that she had someone to cook for, like the guy in 2B. Or that she could be content with herself and binge-watch Netflix shows with a furball on her lap, like the girl in 6C. But no, here she was, the lonely girl in 12E that looked out her window at nine at night, watching strangers live their lives while hers seemed to be non-existent. Sure, the job at the bookstore was cool, but no matter how content she was, in her heart on nights when her brain is too busy to let her accomplish anything, she feels a dull pang in her heart of something missing, and is unable to cure it.

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><p>From two-thirty in the afternoon to nine at night, Beca works her shift at the books store. It's a relatively small space compared to chain bookstores, squished between two other buildings that are taller and much more bland. The building is a skinny, two-story shop with a lot of character. The bricks, that are painted different colors, make it stick out like a sore thumb. Typically, just by the looks, this would be a place that Beca wouldn't be caught dead in, but as soon as she had stepped in the door and was greeted by an adorable short, African-American woman with salt and pepper hair tied up into a bun, it was like it was meant to be.<p>

For some reason, despite her awkwardness and reluctance to open up about herself, the woman welcomed her with open arms and hired her without even asking for a resume. She had started work the very next day, and eagerly pinned her nametag to one of her Barden University shirts, happy that she didn't have to wear a uniform. Besides the older woman, whose name was Wanda, there was only one other person that worked at the same time that Beca did, but was out sick, so it was just her. Nothing like doing everything yourself for the first week. In the end it wasn't so bad.

Since it wasn't a chain bookstore, they didn't get as many customers as Beca had been expecting. So when she wasn't working the cash register when people were actually in the store, she stocked the shelves while listening to a record that she picked out and put on the turntable to play. And when she had done all of the stocking, she was free to do anything she wanted. But surfing the web was only amusing for so long, and Wanda had encouraged her to pick up a book and read. She used to love books. Mostly fairy tales. And when she was younger, her Mother read to her all the time.

Since she's passed, Beca just hasn't gotten the enjoyment out of it that she used to. Since then, she's only read books that were required in her college courses. But she has missed the feeling of getting lost in other worlds far from this one, so she decides to try. When a customer leaves, wanders through the store, raking her fingers over the spines. She doesn't exactly know if she's searching for one, or waiting for one to pick her. Either way, she makes her way to the front section by the window where the used bargain books are. Some are in poorer shape than others, pages bent or spines cracked.

She comes across an old edition of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, the first book in the series. She's only ever seen the movie, and it was one of the only ones she could watch time and time again without getting annoyed. She loved the characters, the songs, and the journey Dorothy goes on. Even though she could only partially relate to Dorothy, always wanting to go over the rainbow, she disagreed that there was no place like home. Her home had turned into a loveless place, and there was no chance of it ever getting back to the way it was. It's too late now. Sliding the book out, she toted it back to her post.

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><p>It takes her two hours to finish it, and with all the customers that had decided to come in as soon as she cracked it open, it's a miracle that she got done with it so quickly. By the time she put it back in it's place on the shelf, the sun was disappearing, under the horizon, and soon the world outside of the store became dark. They didn't get any customer's the rest of the night, and at nine, she flipped the lights of the OPEN sign off and locked the doors. After counting the money in the register, making sure everything was in it's place, she popped into Wanda's office to say good night, then let herself out the back.<p>

Cutting through the small parking lot, she crossed over to the street over and then continued on that sidewalk for about five minutes. Her building was waiting for her, and she made her way up to her apartment. Dropping her keys and nametag on the counter, she made her way to the bathroom, shedding clothes as she went. Nothing like a warm shower to end the day. By the time she was done, her stomach was growling loudly, begging to be fed. She didn't have to look in her fridge to know that there was nothing but some bottled water and a few miscellaneous things that were completely useless to her.

Like every other night this past week, she picked up a mall stack of take-out menus that she had acquired from different places and looked through them, seeing what she was in the mood for. The one she chose tonight belonged to a Chinese restaurant just a few blocks away from the book store and ordered enough for two people. She loved having cold leftovers for some reason, and she didn't have to wait for it to get there when she wanted it. So she picked up the phone and ordered her favorite items, her mouth watering at the thought of her hot food, and while she waited, changed into her PJs.

Twenty minutes later, she plopped herself down on her sofa in her dark apartment and stared out her window as she spooned some rice into her mouth. She could see the man in 2B, this time instead of scrambling around his kitchen, he was sitting at the dinner table, smiling as he talked to a woman who was splitting her attention between him and taking something out of the oven. He looked much more relaxed as he didn't have to impress her with his non-existent culinary skills. The girl in 6C was sitting on her loveseat again, this time instead of watching TV in the dark, she was playing with her cat.

She was teasing him with a feather that was attached to a long stick that she was holding. Everytime she jerked it away, it would jump in the air to try and grab hold of it. The elderly couple in 1A looked as though they were getting ready for bed, the woman already in her night gown as she headed for the bedroom, the man shortly following after her. He slowly shuffled his way around the apartment in his slippers, dragging the floor as he turned the lights off. The young couple in 9D weren't fighting this night. They sat at opposite sides of their dining table, each drinking an amber liquid.

They weren't even looking at each other, and Beca wasn't quite sure if they knew that the other one was there. The single Mother in 7E can be seen picking up her son's toys from around the living room and putting them in a chest for the night. Though she looks as though she doesn't know why the hell she ever bothers when they will just be strewn around the apartment again tomorrow. She's relieved that her son is actually sleeping now though, and that she has a little bit of peace and quiet for herself. After she gets all the toys put away, she collapses on her sofa in defeat, wishing she had a partner to help her.

On the street below, a car coming to a stop on the other side of the road gets Beca's attention. The car parks in the only spot left at the curb, and a tall, blonde girl steps out. In her week here, the brunette hasn't seen this woman before, which makes her curious. The girl rounds the passenger side of her yellow Volkswagen Beetle and opened the door, taking out two brown moving boxes stacked on top of one another. After closing the door with her foot and trying to find the right key in her hand without making the boxes tip, she struggles to let herself in the apartment building.

After a few moments of struggling, a man walks out of the building, and more than enthusiastically holds the door wide open for the girl. She nods to him and says thank you, then proceeds further inside where Beca can't see her anymore. Taking a bite out of a eggroll, she waits, guessing which apartment the girl is going to. Her guess actually ends up being very close, and the light of 2C flips on and the girl sets her boxes down with the others that litter her floor. She just moved in, probably earlier today when Beca was at work and hadn't gotten a chance to unpack anything yet.

Beca's apartment didn't look much different, just less boxes. But she didn't need much to get by. All she needed was her computer, a bed, sofa, fridge, and a microwave. She got by without all the clutter most people had. As she finished up her meal, the redhead retreated into her bedroom, turning off the light in the living room. Beca closed her curtains and threw the empty cartons in the trash, then put the rest in the fridge for later. Closing the bedroom door, she got settled into her bed and turned her computer on. She listened to music as she surfed the web for a few hours before she set the laptop aside and fell asleep.

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><p>On the weekends, the bookstore got more customers, so Beca didn't have as much time to read in between helping people check out. And that was fine. As long as something was keeping her busy. And it was surprising that most everyone came in was nice. She had had this assumption about New Yorkers, only knowing what she'd seen from TV or movies, so it was a pleasant thing that these people weren't rude to her for no reason. It even lifted her spirits a bit, or as much as they could under the circumstances. She wondered if something was wrong with her. Should she be this...indifferent about life?<p>

She knew that she could be happier, she just didn't know how to be. It was like she had expected to be this blissful human being after she got out of her Father's home, but here she was, watching everyone else's life move forward while it felt like she was standing still. She questioned if maybe she was depressed, but that didn't seem to fit her either. Or maybe she just didn't want it to fit her because she didn't have the extra money right to see a therapist. She knew the day would come that she had to talk through some of the things that happened in her past, but today was not that day.

So here she sat at the cashier desk, resting her chin in her hand as she stared at the floor, thinking about nothing in particular. And would continue to do so until another customer came in and she offered to help them find something. Hours and hours of this. She didn't know how people did this every day. How did they not get so bored that they would rather slit their wrists than spend the rest of their lives doing the same thing over and over again? This isn't what she had dreamed for herself when she was a kid. Not even close. But she felt like shit for even complaining. She had it good.

She was self-sufficient, she had a nice roof over her head, and money for food. That was more than a lot of people had. And it made her feel especially shitty when she'd see so many homeless people. There was one specific alley on her way home that she passed every day, twice, and it was filled with people who lived on the streets. She had made a point to avoid looking down it, not because she wanted to pretend all those people didn't exist, but because when she saw the pitiful looks on all their faces, she had to stop herself from wanting to help every single one of them.

Contrary to popular belief, she wasn't a completely heartless bitch. She just put up her walls that she'd taken so long to build. They protected her from getting hurt too badly. Beca hated that she was often viewed as a bitch, but no one had stuck around long enough to see that wasn't the true her. Sure, she had college friends, but instead of trying to get to know her deeper, they just dealt with her by ignoring it. Thinking to herself now, she truly didn't know if that actually constituted them as friends. They were closer to acquaintances, if that. A wave of unexpected sadness came over her, like the past two years had been a lie.

She really didn't have anyone that resembled a true friend in her life. Thankfully, her remaining time at work came to and end relatively quickly, and she got out of there as fast as she could, hardly saying her goodnight to Wanda before bursting out of the back door. She sucked in the fresh air like it was the first time, and leaned back against the brick building for a few moments. She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes as she tried to regain her composure. She hated when just one thought could make her unravel. She considered herself a strong person, but felt so incredibly weak and embarrassed.

When moments like this happen, even if there is no one else around her to witness it, she feels like she needs to crawl under a rock and hide. But there's no getting away from herself. Finally, she was able to pull herself back together and headed for her apartment. As she walks the dark, slick street covered in rain from earlier in the day, she can't help but ask herself, why? Why was she so fragile when she survived years of emotional abuse? She had built up her walls so painstakingly, yet she could crumble them and have to start over after just one thought. What was wrong with her?

So caught up in her thoughts, she forgot not to look down that alleyway as she approached, and by the time she realized it, it was too late. In the dark, only illuminated by a dim light from the street sat a girl, sitting with her back up against a building, arms crossed over each other, and her knees up to her chest. She had dull, red hair and a fair skin complexion that was marred by a few smears of what looked like mud or grease. She was bundled in a damp jacket and scarf, but still shivering, and from what Beca could see, the girl looked to be about her age, or maybe slightly older. It was hard to tell.

It was a nice night, but if they had been rained on and their clothes soaked, there was no doubt they could easily catch a cold. As Beca walked past the alley, seeing a lot more people who were in the same condition, if not worse, her eyes met the redhead's. Even in the dark she could see those two pools of blue, framed by a defeated frown of her eyebrows. Finally getting a hold of herself once more, Beca cast her eyes down and kept walking. This is why she did her best to avoid that alley. She felt like shit knowing that she would go up to her nice, warm apartment and have food there waiting for her, while those people went hungry.

That night as she sat on her sofa, watching other people's lives through windows, she wondered what all those homeless people would be doing if they had their own place. Would one be making out with their girlfriend as they made their way to the bedroom, like the guy in 2B? Would one be dancing around the living room with their pet cats like the girl in 6C? Would one be in their night clothes cuddling on the sofa with their partner of 50 years as they watched a black and white movie like the elderly couple in 1A? Would one of them be finishing moving their things out after they decided to separate from their boyfriend, like the woman in 9D?

Or would one of them be putting their child back into their bed, tucking the covers in around them and whispering reassuring things about no monsters in the closet or under the bed, like the single mom in 7E? Would they be doing any of those things if they had gotten a fair chance at live? And why weren't there more people helping them? Do the governors, or senators, or the President not see how much of a problem homelessness is? There are more people on the streets than ever before. They all deserve help. They all deserve a safe roof over their heads. They all deserve food to survive. If only they had a chance.

Beca sighed as she looked down at her half-eaten leftover carton of noodles and closed it back up before tossing it back into the fridge. She had lost her appetite. Rubbing her eyes, she took one last look out the window before closing the curtains and heading into her bedroom. Clicking away on her computer for a few minutes, she decided to put on some calming music. She was stressed and knew she wouldn't be able to sleep if she didn't try and loosen up a little bit. Slow piano music, or orchestral always seemed to do the trick. And after forty-five minutes of tossing and turning, she finally fell asleep to the soft keys of Pachelbel's Canon.

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><p>That day, Beca could barely bring herself to get out of bed. It wasn't because she was tired, she had gotten more than enough sleep in the night, but she still felt lethargic. This wasn't a new occurrence, she's had this problem for a long while now, but it just seems to get worse over time, and was becoming a real inconvenience. If the grumbling in her stomach from not eating much of anything the night wasn't bothering her, she would just stay in bed until the last possible second before she had to go get ready for work. But like always, her hunger won, and she stumbled out into the kitchen to finish her Chinese food.<p>

After changing into clothes that at least smelled clean, she brushed her teeth, ran a comb through her hair, pinned her nametag to her shirt, grabbed her hoodie, and headed out the door. When she arrived at work, she immediately poured herself a cup of coffee from the break room, just as her co-worker arrived and put her things in her locker for the day. They didn't talk, neither ever offering anything up other than a polite nod to at least acknowledge each others presence. And since the girl, whose name Beca always forgot, had come back to work, they had to share the record player, taking turns on what they'd listen to.

It wasn't as bad as Beca imagined it would be. The girl mostly played the classics, like The Eagles, or the Bee Gees. Anything was better than metal or country. And Beca mostly played rock, like Joan Jett and the Blackhearts, or The Rolling Stones, and she didn't get complaints either. It made the day go on just a bit faster. Beca had gotten to the point of when she rang up a customer, she really didn't have to be paying that much attention because she knew the routine like the back of her hand. She just went through the motions until quitting time, where she turned the OPEN sign off and counted the day's earnings.

This time, before she was even done, Wanda came out to say goodnight. Beca's co-worker had already left, so they were the only two in the store. She was writing down what she had just counted when Wanda asked her why she was so "blue". Beca stopped what she was doing for a moment, thinking to herself, then shrugged. She didn't know. She really didn't. She had everything that she's always wanted, yet it felt like she had a personal raincloud over her all of the time. That wasn't normal. Of course Wanda probably thought that this was a rare occurrence for her. Just a bad couple weeks.

But no, this was her. This was how she is every day. Though Beca wasn't aware of how much her personal raincloud was showing to other people. She had to be more mindful of that from now on. She knew that Wanda wouldn't be one of the people who ignored it, or acknowledged it, but didn't do anything to try and help. No, she wasn't that type of person. She was the type to not leave things alone, not to be an annoyance, but because she was just the kind of person that truly cared about other people. Beca wished that there were more people like Wanda out there. But she really just wanted her to leave her be.

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><p>She put up her hood as she exited the building. It was still crappy outside, but at least the heavy rain had turned into more of a mist that would peter out sometime in the night. Her shoe kicks through the collected puddles, making a ripple and blurring the images of bright neon store lights in the water as she continues down the street, slower than normal. She actually like rain. The smell it leaves behind in the air, and the feeling of the cold droplets running down her face. It makes her feel like she's alive. The atmosphere makes it so easy to block out everything else and just focus on how better if makes her feel.<p>

However, this night, her enjoyment was cut short. A man shouting brought her out of her daze. Just a head of her a guy pushed a girl down on the sidewalk, tugging on what looked like a duffel bag she was carrying. When she wasn't letting go, he punched her in the face. Beca had seen enough, and before she could really even think about how dangerous it was with she was about to do, she kicked him in the stomach as hard as she could as she yelled for him to get off of the poor girl. He grunted and blindly swung at her, but missed. Reaching into her back pocket, where she always kept a little bottle of pepper spray, for occasions like this.

She easily caught his arm and pulled him around to face her, and unloaded the spray into his eyes. He immediately let go of the duffel bag strap and both of his hands flew to his face, clawing at his eyes as he let out a wail. Knowing there may only be a small window of time before he wasn't stunned anymore, she quickly help the girl up from the sidewalk, grabbed her hand, and ran toward the safety of her apartment building. Once in the lobby, she looked out of the window to see no one following them, so she finally turned to the girl that she had helped, and was surprised to find that it was the redhead.

"Are you okay?" She said with a rather strong voice.

The girl paused a moment before nodding, but Beca could see that the bridge of her nose was bleeding from the punch she'd taken. No doubt there would be a big bruise under her eye by tomorrow. Finally noticing that they were still holding hands, she dropped the girl's shyly, but not before tugging her toward the elevator, urging her to come with her so she could get cleaned up and warm. Beca knew how it sounded, and if she were a dude, it would be ten times more creepy, but she wanted to help. She needed to. That guy could still be out there waiting for her, and she just wanted this girl safe.

The girl hesitated at the offer, looking back toward the door of the apartment building. Beca fully expected her to walk away. But after a long moment, the redhead faced her again and nodded. She guessed that was as good of an 'okay' as she was going to get, so she hit the button on the wall and the elevator doors opened for them. It was a silent ride up to her apartment, and a bit awkward, she had to admit, but she wasn't regretting it. Once they got up to her door, Beca unlocked it and went in first, leaving it open behind her. Normally that would be a no-no, but she trusted this girl to not hurt her.

Once she put her keys on the counter and took her hoodie and name tag off, she realized that the girl was still standing in the doorway. "I'm not going to hurt you." She said softly. "I promise."

She felt a bit desperate, begging with her eyes for the girl to trust her. But that must have done the trick, because the girl then slowly stepped inside of the apartment, and gently closed the door behind her.

"Make yourself comfortable." Beca said on her way to her bedroom. She went over to her dresser and pulled out a pair of sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a sweater, then returned to the living room to find the girl now sitting on the edge of the sofa. "Here are some clean clothes for you. But first if you want to take a shower, go ahead and feel free to. Use anything you want. It's the door on the right."

The girl took the clean clothes that were handed to her and looked down the hall.

"The shower itself is separated by a door from the rest of the bathroom, so once you're out of your clothes, just set them on the sink with all the other ones you need washed and I'll come and get them in a few minutes, and put them in the washer."

Again, the girl didn't talk, just picked up her duffel bag and cautiously made her way to the bathroom and shut the door behind her with a small squeak of the door. While she was changing, Beca took her own clothes out of the washer that she'd been too lazy to do earlier, and tossed them into a nearby basket for later. Once she was done and heard that the shower was running, she opened the bathroom door to find a small pile of clothes. Three shirts, three pants, two pairs of underwear, one pair of socks, and two jackets. It was sad that that was all the girl had, not to mention they were filled with holes.

Though what did she expect? Living on the streets was hard. And so was the smell of the clothes, but she quickly tossed them into the washing machine and started the cycle. Waiting for the girl to finish her shower, Beca pulled out all of her menus and went through them. Deciding on a hamburger place, thinking a burger and fries was the most generic thing most people like that the girl would hopefully eat. She dug her phone out of her pocket, called and placed the order. She was hungry too, and her mouth watered at the idea of a nice, greasy burger with salty friends. Her stomach growling in anticipation.

Opening her curtains, she leaned toward the window and glanced down the street from where they both had come from ten minutes ago. The guy was still nowhere in sight, so hopefully that would be the last time either of them saw him. The whole street was pretty dead, actually. The only movement was ripples in the puddles along the sidewalk or in the road as the wind kicked up, or when a piece of trash rolled or flew by. But no one was out walking or driving by. It was a Friday night, so Beca assumed that most people were probably still out in the more active part of town, celebrating the end of the work week.

Sitting down, Beca put her arms along the back of the sofa and rested her chin there as she looked across the street at the other apartment building. The man in 2B sat on his sofa too, next to the woman he's been seeing, both watching a movie and eating popcorn out of an oversized bowl. The girl in 6C was just finishing putting together a structure for her cat to climb on, putting it in the corner of the living room and smiling at her accomplishment as the cat jumped onto it. The old couple in 1A are already in bed tonight. All the lights in the apartment turned off and the curtains and blinds closed.

The guy in 9D was hanging up new pictures and posters, now that the ones from his previous girlfriend were gone. When he finished hanging one in particular, he stepped back and smiled, finally feeling like himself again. The single Mother in 7E, may not be so single anymore, as she lounges on her sofa with her feet in the lap of a large but handsome man's lap. He rubs her feet, saying sweet things to her as she sips on a glass of wine and for once, allows herself to enjoy it. The blonde in 2C looked to have about half of her things unpacked by now, and looks tired as she takes a break, lying on the cool floor.

A creak to her left catches Beca's attention, finding the girl now clean, decked out in her clothes as she awkwardly stands partly in the hall, partly in the living room. Turning around on the sofa the proper way, the brunette asks if she feels better. The girl just nods and shifts on her and fidgets with her fingers as she avoids eye contact. Standing up, Beca goes to stand at the counter, putting all the menus that she pulled out, away in the drawer. To keep herself busy a little longer, she then collected two glasses and got them both some ice water to drink before coming back into the living room.

The girl had now sat down on the far end of the sofa, which Beca was thankful for. Hopefully she was getting a little more comfortable now. And right as she sat their glasses on the coffee table, the loud buzzer sounded. The girl nearly jumped out of her skin at the unexpected noise, and Beca quickly told her that it was just some food that she ordered being delivered. She buzzed the delivery boy up and dug some cash out of her wallet. Once there was the knock on the door, she answered it and she collected their food. The bag emitted such a delicious scent, that she could barely contain herself not to rip open the bag.

"I hope you like burgers and fries." Beca said as she jogged into the kitchen to grab two paper plates and a bottle of ketchup from the fridge.

The girl didn't reply, but she looked shocked. LIke she didn't know what to say as Beca opened the white, grease-stained bag and pulled out their dinner, serving the girl first. She chewed a fry as she pulled out her own helping, then reached back in for the napkins and set the pile in between them. Unwrapping her burger was a bit too exciting. Was it weird or sad that she was more happy in getting some fast food than she had been at anything, really, in the last few weeks? Both, she thinks, but quickly that thought leaves her mind and she takes a nice big bite of her burger, savoring the taste.

Looking over to her right, she noticed that the girl was just sitting there, her food untouched. "Go ahead, eat up. You must be hungry."

The girl looked back and forth between the food in front of her and Beca, as if she was having an internal struggle about accepting food from a stranger. The brunette would be weary too if she were in the girl's position, she supposes. But there's only so long a under-fed stomach can resist, and when the girl decided that taking the risk was worth it, she really dug in, eating like she hadn't in weeks. Beca wondered how accurate that was. She had no idea how people even survived on the streets. Did they rummage through trash cans? Did they steal? Did they panhandle during the day, then use that money to get some food at night?

Beca opened the ketchup bottle and poured a little glop onto her plate, then the girl's. Whose name she wished she knew, but had a feeling that if she asked, she wouldn't get an answer anyway. At this point she wondered if the girl didn't talk because she didn't want to, or because she couldn't. She knew that there was a frightening amount of disabled or mentally ill people living on the street. Even though the girl hadn't shown any signs of being strange, she assumed it was because the girl just chose not to speak. We all have our reasons for things, so hers may be a good reason. There's just no way to know what it is.

After both girls had completely annihilated their food, Beca shoved all their wrappers, used napkins, and dirty plates into the large take-out sack, then threw it in the trash can in the kitchen. While she was up, she took the girl's wet clothes from the washer and put them in the dryer, then went back to the living room. Now that both of them weren't busy with something, the awkwardness was back. Beca figured that the best thing to do would be let the girl stay the night since her clothes weren't done, and she could probably use a night off the chilly, wet streets. But it was up to the redhead.

"You can sleep here on the sofa." She started, as she went down the hall to retrieve a blanket from her closet. "If you need something, I'll be in my room. Don't be afraid to ask. Or if you need something, don't be afraid to use it. Uh, I'll set out a new toothbrush that you can use in the bathroom, and my toothpaste is on the counter."

The girl nodded, like Beca expected, so she handed over the blanket, then made her way to the bathroom to brush her own teeth, and get the unopened on from a small basket in the cabinet under the sink to set out. Once she made it back to her room, she closed the door behind her, started to lock it, but then changed her mind. She trusted the girl not to come and stab her in the middle of the night. Maybe it's stupid of her to not take every precaution, but she had observed the girl over the last hour, and likened her to a young deer. Wide-eyed, awkward, and skittish. But also pretty adorable.

She wasn't gonna lie, she found the girl to be very attractive. Even with her sunken eyes, too-skinny frame, and dull, wild hair. Beca could only imagine just how beautiful she'd be with a well-fed diet, a good night's sleep, and a smile. She really wanted to help the girl, so maybe in the morning she could see if she could find any soup kitchens or shelters in the area. She knew they couldn't stay there forever, but just until she could get her feet off the ground. Of course, the girl had to be willing to go. That was a whole other thing that Beca wasn't prepared for, but she'd worry about it in the morning. For now, she had to sleep.

* * *

><p>Since Beca went to bed earlier than she normally did, she woke up earlier as well. It took her a good twenty minutes of being lazy and staying in bed to remember that there was a girl sleeping on her sofa. So she quickly got dressed and brushed her teeth before heading out into the living room, but when she got there, the girl was nowhere to be found. The blanket she'd used was folded back up and laid neatly on the sofa cushion, and on top were the clothes that Beca had lent the girl. Just to make sure that she was actually gone, the brunette went through the kitchen and into the laundry area, and looked into the dryer. The clothes were gone.<p>

Sighing, she walked back into the kitchen, this time a sticky note on the counter caught her attention. There, in cute, slanted writing, a note was left by the mysterious stranger.

_Thank you for everything. -Chloe_

Chloe. Well, at least she knew her name now, though a lot of good it does her now. The girl was gone, and the chances of her coming back were slim, let alone ever even seeing her again. She'd let the poor girl slip through her fingers when she could have helped her. But if the girl...Chloe wanted help, then she probably would have stayed. It didn't help the sinking feeling in her stomach though. She'd had her chance and missed it. Now what was she going to do? Go on with her life would be the normal answer, but Beca was anything but normal. But having the girl there gave her a purpose, and it felt good.

It was also nice to know that even though the girl hadn't spoken a word to her, she was a lot more comfortable knowing someone else was there with her. That she wasn't completely alone, like usual. That she could feel something other than just plain nothing, or sadness. For the first time in a really long time, she felt like her old self. It was strange. Of all the things, taking care of a homeless person is what made her feel...complete. But she didn't know if it was that specific job, or that it was specifically Chloe. There was just something about that girl that made Beca want to hold onto her and never let her go.

Was she that desperate for company though? Maybe. She rubbed her temple as she could feel a headache coming on. Why did all of this have to be so complicated? She really didn't need this amount of stress on her weekend off. But really, it was only her that was piling it on. It would be so easy just to go back to bed and forget that last night never happened, but she knew very well how that would turn out. So now she only had two options. One: go out looking the the mysterious Chloe. Or two: Stay here in case she decided to come back. The latter option had a less likely chance of happening, so she went with first.

And so that's how she spent her day, walking up and down the streets in her area, checking into alleys, the benches in any nearby parks, under bridges, but still...no Chloe. She finally googled on her phone where the nearest soup kitchen and shelter was, but when she checked those places, and even asked around, no one had seen or heard of a Chloe. It was likes she was a figment of Beca's imagination. But she was real. At least, at this point she hoped that the girl had been real. What if she was losing it? After all this time, now? No, she couldn't be. She touched the girl herself, handled her clothes, fed her. She was real.

But where the hell is she?

* * *

><p>Sunday, Beca spent another whole day out looking, but again, to no avail. She didn't understand how a girl could just vanish like she was never there in the first place. And she couldn't believe that no one had seen her either. Maybe she just wasn't asking the right people. Or maybe someone did know her, they were just protecting her. After all, how often does someone go looking for a homeless person? Beca guessed no many. She tried to relay that she only wanted to know if the girl was okay, and possibly where to find her, but it seemed useless at this point. The girl was probably long gone.<p>

Even Beca's nightly routine of looking out the window bored her, her mind on the girl that had entered her life and left so fast that she was gone in a blink. She didn't care what her apartment counterparts were doing across the street tonight. She closed her own curtains and skipped dinner, not hungry, even after all the walking she'd done during the day. Before going to bed, she cleared her internet history, wishing she could just forget that the redhead just as easily. Unfortunately, things don't work like that. But she made it a point to tell herself that she'd done all she could do. And now it was time to let go.

* * *

><p>The weeks went by slowly. Slower than usual, and it was getting harder and harder for Beca to get out of bed and go to work. She just wanted to lie in bed all day and do nothing. But of course, didn't everyone? Well, except for people who actually like their jobs. Not to say that working at the bookstore was horrible. It really wasn't. It was the easiest job she could have found, and any lazy person would kill her be in her position. But she just did not get any enjoyment out of it. If only she still had the passion for music like she used to.<p>

It was what kept her going all those years. Now...she hadn't touched her DJ turntables or opened her mixing software since her Freshman year of college. Before everything go so busy with classes and the waitressing job she'd been working to save up her own money. She's thankful for the money, but college, that was just a big waste of time. But if she hadn't of gone and went against her Father's orders, she probably would have been out on the streets herself. Plus at the time, she thought the business classes would come in handy.

He wanted her to be taking them so she could work for him, and one day take over the company. But what helped get her through it at the time was the thought that she could put those classes to use one day and start her own recording company, after she was discovered and made a name for herself. But that all seemed like a pipedream now. Her passion was anywhere but here, and has zero inspiration. Which is a bit confusing. New York was supposed to be inspiring in many ways. Maybe she just wasn't seeing the right stuff.

But just the thought of venturing onto Broadway, where all the crowds of people and tourists are...it made her heart pound anxiously in her chest. She never been good with crowds, and in the heart of New York, she'd be bound to have a panic attack. Yet another problem. What was wrong with her? So many things, that's what. And it was getting harder and harder to put on her mask and keep it there. Since there wasn't really anyone in her life, she only had to have her guard up and work. She knew that Wanda saw more than she let on, and was glad that it wasn't brought up. At least until now…

"Okay, Sugar, what's eatin' you?" Wanda said, pulling up a stool next to Beca behind the cash register as she counted the money from today's sales.

"Nothing." Beca said automatically. "I'm fine."

"Honey, you are a terrible liar." The older woman sighed. "How long have you been working here?"

Beca frowned, not really remembering when she started. Or even what month it was now. "I don't know…"

"Three months." Wanda said, punctuating both words with a tap on the counter. "Three months, two days. And each day you greet me with a smile that doesn't reach your eyes, and then you sit here for seven hours and look like you are absolutely miserable. Only perking up when there are customers you have to check out, but as soon as they turn their backs, you slump into your chair and continue looking anguished. Now...I'll ask again, what's eatin' you, sweetie?"

Beca hadn't known that Wanda had noticed all that. And here she thought that she was doing a pretty good job at hiding it. Apparently, she was either completely transparent, or Wanda was the only one who took the time to look deeper and observe what was really going on. So Beca put down the money she was counting, having lost track anyway, and gave in. She did want to talk, because maybe it would make her feel better. Even if it didn't, it was worth a shot.

"I really don't know." She started. "I just feel so...numb. All the time, not just sometimes. And there's no particular reason for it. I should be happier than I've ever been, but yet it's the opposite." Swallowing hard, she tried her best not to get emotional. "I don't know what to do."

"Aw, baby girl." Wanda cooed softly before enveloping Beca in a warm hug.

She didn't ever resist it, opening her arms and squeezing her arms around Wanda's waist. It was then that she let the tears that she'd been holding in for so long fall, making damp spots on the woman's sweater. She didn't know how long they stayed like that, but it must have been a while because Wanda sat back down on her stool at one point, though kept Beca wrapped in a tight hug the entire time.

"Sorry." Beca said when she finally pulled away.

Wanda shook her head and rubbed her back. "Don't be. I actually think I have something to help you. I'll be right back."

Wanda stood and walked back to her office, and Beca wiped at the tear stains on her cheeks. She picks up the previously discarded money on the counter and counted it again, this time doing it a bit faster than the first time and finishing before the older woman came back, hand holding out a small card for her to take. Beca reluctantly took it and read it, stifling a sigh when she realized what it was.

**_Jennifer Sanchez, MD, PHD_**

**_Psychologist_**

**_Health and Wellness Center of New York City_**

"A shrink…"

"Jennifer is a friend of mine, and I think you could benefit by seeing her."

"I don't know."

"Beca, you say that you don't know what to do about the way you feel. Well, this is an option."

She didn't like the idea of talking to someone whom she didn't know. She had barely even opened up to Wanda. But she did have a point, and Beca didn't want to feel like this anymore. She wanted to enjoy her life, not just bide her time until it's up. So she nodded and put the card in her pocket. Maybe by the next day she would work up the courage to call the number. With that, Wanda pat Beca on the back and sent her home, saying she'd lock up. On her way home, she felt different. Like, maybe there was some hope for her after all. That there was something waiting for her at the end of a very dark tunnel.

That night, the brunette ate her dinner and looked out her window and observing everyone's life before her. But for the first time, instead of thinking she could never have what they do...she looked forward to getting to a place where maybe someone would be watching her, and be inspired to make their lives better. She watched them talk to their loved ones on the phone, play with their pets, have romantic dinners, and kiss their kids goodnight. One day, she could have that. One day there will be more to her life than just going to work at a job she isn't passionate about, and coming home to a dark, empty apartment.

The next morning, Beca woke up with more energy than she had in a long time. She even went down to the grocery store and bought herself some food and made her own breakfast. Partly because she knew she had to start changing the way she was living, but also partly because she was stalling just a bit longer before calling the number on the business card that Wanda gave her. She was nervous. And trying to tell herself that lots of people see shrinks sort of helped. But the fact that the woman is Wanda's friend did help. She trusted her. So before she lost her will, she picked up her cell and dialed the number.

"_Health and Wellness Center of New York. This is Sherri speaking, how may I help you?_"

"Hi. This is Beca Mitchell...and I'd like to schedule an appointment with Dr. Sanchez."

* * *

><p>A week later, Beca sat in the waiting room of the Health and Wellness Center, located on the fourth floor of a red brick building in New York City. Her leg bounced on the dark blue carpet as she locked her hands tightly together so she didn't fidget. Her eyes scanned the empty room, filled with dark wooden chairs, a small flatscreen TV in the corner that was currently on CNN, tables that held stacks of surprisingly up to date magazines, a pamphlet shelf just to her right, and loads of different sized motivational posters littered the walls azure walls. It was a bit of a contrast from the really professional looking decor.<p>

The classic "_Hang in there_" poster with the kitten holding on for it's life to a piece of rope as it dangles in the air. One with a few piles of small, smooth rocks stacked on top of each other saying: "_Life is all about balance_". Another one that only had the words said: "_Don't let your struggle become your identity_." And so on, and so on. Tons more scattered around the walls, but Beca was interrupted when the secretary, Sherri, told her that the Doctor was ready for her now. Taking a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves that seemed to rise even higher as she approached and stood in the office doorway.

"Ah, Beca. Come on in." Dr. Sanchez said, coming over and shaking her hand. "It's good to meet you."

Dr. Sanchez was a tall, Latina woman with brown hair, dark eyes, and a comforting smile.

"You too." Beca replied.

"Wanda called me the night she gave you my number, but by the way she described you, I really didn't think you were going to call. I'm glad you did." The older woman said as she closed the door and gestured for Beca to take a seat on the black, leather couch that sat in front of her desk.

Beca wondered what all Wanda told the Doctor as she sat down on the left side of the couch, closest to the wall that was entirely made of glass. She could see the busy streets below, people walking around clusters of buildings or racing across crosswalks while the light stayed red. Bike messengers weaving in between the sea of yellow cabs, cars honking, engines revving, people shouting. All of that wasn't helping her heart slow down any more. It was making her anxious. She hadn't been in such a crowded area since college. Even then she did her best to avoid it altogether. But sometimes, like now, it was unavoidable.

"I can see that you're tense, sweetie." Dr. Sanchez's voice cut through the chaos in her head, bringing her mind back into the office. "You don't have to be nervous about this session. We're just here to talk, alright?"

Beca nodded. She knew that she'd only made one appointment. After this, she didn't have to come back if she didn't want to, and what was said would stay in here. But just the thought of letting someone know what's she's thinking was a bit overwhelming. No one knew her deepest, darkest thoughts. What would the Doctor think? Would she say that she's crazy? Taking a long, deep breath, she shook her head slightly. She hated that she always expected the worst. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

The older woman came sat down in a chair across from her, next to the window. "You seem to be struggling internally. Is there something specific you'd like to talk about?"

Was there? No, not really. But she was here. If she didn't talk about something, it would just be a waste of money for her, and a waste of time for the Doctor. She didn't want to waste her time.

"I don't think so." Beca started. "I just...don't feel right."

"What do you mean?"

And so she went on to horribly try to explain the way she'd been feeling the past few years, it only getting worse and more of a struggle to deal with as time went on. The Doctor nodded as she listened to her speak, and occasionally wrote down something in a notebook that she took off of a small table next to the chair. After a while of just talking about how how debilitating whatever what wrong with her was, and how much it has affected her life, the Doctor started asking her questions.

"Have you experienced the loss of enjoyment in things that were once pleasurable?"

Yes. She thought about how her passion for music had disappeared.

"Have you experienced a major change in your weight or appetite?"

Yes. She'd noticed how much weight she lost, but hadn't thought much of it. And a lot of time didn't have much of an appetite.

"Have you experienced insomnia or excessive sleep on a daily basis?"

Yes. Every day was a fight to wake up and get out of bed.

"Fatigue or loss of energy?"

Yes. She used to be a constant ball of energy, needing to be active. But the most moving around she does most days is the walk from her apartment to her job, and back. And it always feels like its a mile long walk, and she just wants to get home and lay down.

"Recurring thoughts of suicide?"

...Yes. She never had admitted it to anyone. But every since her Mother died, the thought of just ending things cropped up every once in a while. She used to be able to cope with her music, before that was something else she stopped doing.

By the end of the hour session, Dr. Sanchez told Beca that without a doubt, she was sure that she had Clinical Depression and Anxiety. She couldn't believe it. There was actually something legitimately wrong with her...that could be fixed? That there was an end of all her sadness and numbness? That she could finally live her life again, feeling like herself? It was all almost too much to hear. Dr. Sanchez filled out two prescriptions for her, and all she had to do was go to the pharmacy on her way home and pick it up. Of course, she was told that it would take at least four to six weeks for it to kick in and start feeling the changes if the dose was correct.

Beca didn't care, she was...happy. Excited. Overwhelmed. Grateful. She never expected this.

"I'd like to talk with you again, Beca. Is that something you would like?"

She thought for a few moments, then nodded. She would like that very much.

* * *

><p>The high from getting diagnosed only lasted until the next morning. She'd picked up her prescriptions and started taking the pills, but since they took weeks to work, it was back to dragging herself out of bed every afternoon for work, and day after day of just going through the motions. Wanda had been so happy to hear that she'd been to see Dr. Sanchez, and she wished the best for Beca in her treatment. It was really nice to have two people supporting her, when just weeks ago she was all alone in her struggle. That's what she used as motivation to keep on fighting.<p>

* * *

><p>"I don't like to talk about my past." Beca said after the Dr. suggested opening up about her life growing up.<p>

"Unexpressed emotions will never die. They are buried alive and will come forth later in uglier ways. Sigmund Freud."

Beca learned real fast that Dr. Sanchez quoted people a lot. It wasn't annoying per say, but she wouldn't miss it if she did it a little less.

The woman sighed. "I can't force you to talk about anything, but I am truly trying to help. You obviously have something that negatively impacted you, and maybe talking about how it makes you feel will let you release it and move on from it. It's doing nothing but holding you back."

* * *

><p>It wasn't until weeks later that Beca made another appointment with the Dr. Sanchez. She was at the four week mark, but still felt the same. She knew it was stupid of her to expect everything to just all of a sudden be okay, but that's just how badly she <em>needs<em> it to be okay.

"Success doesn't happen overnight, Beca."

"I know..."

"It takes ten times as long to put yourself back together as it does to fall apart."

She's pretty sure she saw that written on a poster out in the waiting room…

"I think...I'm ready. To talk."

And talk she did. About how her childhood was pretty good while her Mother was still alive, but once she died, it all went to Hell. She talked about her Father's verbal and emotional abuse, knowing it wasn't her fault, it was just the kind of person he already was, but that didn't make it hurt any less. She even cried, right there in the office. She hated crying in general, but loathed it when she broke down in front of other people. Though this time she didn't feel as bad because this is the kind of thing that the Doctor was used to. It didn't bother her. In fact, she encouraged anything that expressed emotions.

The sun was setting when she walked out of the Health and Wellness building, feeling as if a ton of weight had lifted off of her. Some was still there, and she suspected it may be there forever, something that she had to carry with her, because maybe she could forgive, but it would be impossible to forget. Still emotional when she left the building, the even larger crowds than usual, because of some even going on nearby, made her feel so closed in. Like she couldn't breathe. She'd forgotten to take her anxiety pills that morning, and what a day to forget! Instead of waiting for a cab, she started walking fast down the sidewalk.

She breathed in and out, trying to calm herself down, but barely got a block before she had to run into an alley and lean up against a building, her eyes closed, trying to picture her happy place. "You're fine, just breathe. In with the good, out with the bad." She whispered to herself.

"Are you okay?" A voice from her left said.

Beca jumped at the sudden voice, but that fear quickly turned into relief when she looked up and it was none other than the homeless redhead staring back at her with concern in her eyes.

"Chloe. I-yeah. I'm okay now." She replied, trying to keep it together. "I never thought I'd see you again."

The redhead nodded, probably thinking the same thing. Beca gave the girl the once-over, making sure she was okay as well. Her clothes that were cleaned that night were now filthy once again, though this time she had a raggedy old beanie on her head, as the weather had gotten much colder. Over her shoulder was her duffel bag. And in her arms was a large styrofoam take-out container.

"Whatcha got there?" She asked, not knowing what else to say.

Chloe looked down at the container in her arms and quietly responded. "Eggrolls."

Beca nodded, then looked behind Chloe, seeing a neon sign for a Chinese take-out place above what was the back door, right by a dumpster.

"You didn't...dumpster dive for those, did you?" She asked.

Chloe shook her head. "They throw away their leftover food at the end of the day. A guy saw me and instead of tossing it, he gave it to me."

"Oh, good." Beca said, relieved that the girl had resorted to looking in the trash for food. "Um...you wanna come back to my place? I can heat them up for you so you don't have to eat them cold. And I can wash your clothes again."

The redhead, although shocked by the invitation, wasted no time in nodding. She was curious about the girl who she still didn't know the name of. Why was she being so nice? Everyone usually treated her like garbage. Probably because she more often smelled like it. But she was still a person with thoughts and feelings. She didn't deserve any of the rudeness she gets on a daily basis. They walked out of the alley together, going a few blocks before most the people cleared and were able to hail a taxi. By the time they arrived at the apartment, the sky was dark blue and the street lights buzzed above them.

Much like last time, Chloe was coaxed into taking a shower, and she couldn't really refuse, she needed it, then changed into a pair of Beca's clothes. Meanwhile, the brunette had put the girl's eggrolls in the oven to heat them up, and ordered herself some Chinese as she put the dirty clothes into the washer. The food arrived just a few minutes before Chloe exited the bathroom, not all squeaky clean, and she entered the living room to see Beca getting their plates of food ready. She sat down and waited on the sofa, and took a look around. The apartment still hadn't changed from the last time she was here.

There were a few cardboard boxes discarded in the corner of the room, where a dining table could be put, no pictures or posters had been added to the walls, nor was any knick knacks on the shelves, or a TV anywhere. She had assumed that the girl had just moved in last time she was here, but she realized now that she may just be the kind of person that doesn't need much of anything to be happy, and there was nothing wrong with that. Though the girl didn't seem happy. In fact, her resting face seemed to be a frown, causing a crease next to her right eyebrow. She wondered what was on the girl's mind.

"Alright, dinner is served." Beca said, carrying two plates into the living room and setting them down on the coffee table before going back and retrieving two glasses of water.

"Thank you." Chloe said in a surprised tone.

She had not expecting anything other than a few of her eggrolls, but a portion of white rice and lo mein noodles shared the plate as well. This girl was so nice to her, and she wondered how on Earth she would be able to pay her back. It's not like she had anything to give. All that she carried was a duffel bag full of clothes, and her Father's old wallet that held precious family pictures. She had only two dollars in that wallet, which she was saving for when she couldn't acquire any free food from vendors at the end of the business days. She ate her food slowly, savoring it as she thought to herself for a little while before she spoke up.

"Is there something I can do...to pay you back?"

"For what?" Beca asked, scooping once last fork full of rice into her mouth.

"Everything."

The brunette turned her head and looked at the girl sitting next to her. Calm, yet not relaxed.

"Not run away like you did last time?" She suggested.

Chloe lowered her head. "I didn't want to overstay my welcome."

"Well then, it was my fault for not making it clear. You can stay here, if you want."

Again, the redhead was so confused. "Why?"

Beca leaned back into the couch. "So you can get back on your feet. I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that you probably don't like being homeless."

No, she didn't. But she still felt like she'd be taking too much from her. "I don't know…"

"Besides, you'd be helping me too."

"How?"

"I…" She didn't know how to put it without sounding creepy. "For some reason I'm really drawn to you. And I just...want to help. You look around my age, and it's sad to think that there are thousands more out there on the streets. If only someone would take a chance on them, they could really do something with their lives."

Chloe still looked hesitant, but she was so tempted to take the offer.

"And you'd be doing me a bit of a favor. I don't really have friends, but I'd like some company. It gets lonely here all by myself. Plus you'd have a roof over your head, wouldn't have to worry about food, and can help you look for a job."

"O-okay." Chloe accepted. "But I'm going to pay you back. I promise."

"Don't worry about that right now." She replied, reaching over and patting the redhead's knee. "I hope it's okay, there's only one bedroom so, the sofa is the only thing to sleep on. But I have extra space in my closet where you can put your clothes for now."

"No, that's...yeah. I'm more than okay with taking the sofa." Better than a hard, wet street any day.

"Great. Welcome home, then."

* * *

><p>After a few days, they fell into a schedule. Beca would wake up in the afternoon, help Chloe go through the ads in the newspaper, and print out some resumes. While she pounded the pavement looking for any business close by that would hire her, Beca worked her usual schedule at the bookstore. And gradually, Beca found it easier to get out of bed and get to work. She didn't know whether it was because of the medication, or the fact that Chloe was now living with her. Either way, she liked that there was finally a start of a change in her behavior, and hoped that things would only keep getting better.<p>

Though the company was nice, it didn't take long to realize that when they were both at home in the evening, it was so incredibly boring. Especially since Chloe still wasn't much of a talker. So the next day, the brunette went out in the morning and bought a TV, then rearranged the living room, that way they could watch Netflix in there, rather than on the small screen of Beca's laptop. She learned fast that Chloe had no idea what Netflix was, or that you could watch things online and not from a VHS. Apparently she had been on the streets longer than Beca could have even imagined.

* * *

><p>One night after Chloe had fallen asleep on the sofa, Beca quietly got up and gently covered her up with a blanket, before going back to her own room. Not sleepy, she stayed up, but even the internet wasn't enough to entertain her. Sighing, she let her eyes wander around the blank room, eyes eventually falling on her discarded DJ station. And for once in more than three years, she had an urge to use it. She picked it up off the floor, plugged everything in, and put her headphones on. There were so many files that were only half done, abandoned. She never thought that the inspiration would ever come back.<p>

She stayed up until five o'clock in the morning working on a number of different files before she made herself put everything away so she could get some sleep. Even though she could have stayed up much longer to continue her work. She even found herself smiling at her reflection as she brushed her teeth, something that she never did, avoiding mirrors when she could because they just showed what she had become. But tonight was different. The purple bags under her eyes weren't as dark or deep. And her blue irises looked...alive. It made her wonder if this was actually the start of things getting better, and felt herself actually looking forward to tomorrow.

* * *

><p>As the weeks passed, Beca's mood considerably changed. For the better. She still wasn't back to a hundred percent yet, but the progress that had been made still was something to celebrate. Even Chloe took a notice as to how much lighter she was. Which lead to a conversation about what she'd been going through for so long, but left out a few details, not ready for anyone but her therapist to know those secrets yet. But Chloe was so understanding, and actually started to speak about her own experience. How her Mother couldn't find a job, and how her Father lost his due to cutbacks. Eventually leading them to be evicted.<p>

Even through all the shit Beca has been through with her family, at least she always had a roof over her head. She couldn't imagine a whole family having to scavenge to stay alive. Chloe always seemed to look on the bright side of things though. She explained how they found a small community of people to live with in an abandoned, overgrown lot. It hadn't been much, but it was at least something. But then things took an even darker turn. A sickness started going around the homeless community, and it ended up claiming her Mother. A year later, her Father was stabbed to death for refusing to hand over his wedding ring to some thugs.

Beca didn't think it could get any worse than that. Until, Chloe recalled how the police came and raided the abandoned lot. She got away in time, before the old building was engulfed in flames and the police officers arrested numerous homeless people, blaming them for the incident. It was so incredibly unfair, but that made Beca even more determined to be that person to give Chloe not just what she needed, but what she deserved. A stable, safe home. She would never have to sleep out in the rain with rats running by her, or panhandling for just enough money to buy a meal to get her through the next few days.

This was her home now, and Beca promised she'd never have to be alone again. Chloe, in a surprising move, leaned over and hugged the brunette. She had never fully trusted anyone except for her family, but it was growing increasingly hard not to trust Beca, with all that she's done to help her. She had longed for this, dreamt of this for so long, and now that she was here, it was so hard to believe. But she was thankful beyond words. When she'd listened to Beca's story, she felt a sense of knowing, even though they had been through vastly different things, they connected. And from now on, things were going to be different.

* * *

><p>Now that Chloe knew about Beca's weekly trips to her therapist, she'd made it a habit of going to pick up the brunette when her sessions were over and they would go get something to eat. Because Beca was delving into more emotional territory with Dr. Sanchez, she needed a bit of a pick-me-up afterwards. They had found this cute place that fit perfecting in between two small street blocks, it's red, neon lights getting their attention one evening as they walked around. It's a mexican establishment that you could either go in and sit down, or order at an outside window and take it home with you.<p>

They'd done both, though more so take-out recently because Beca was a bit paranoid in staying and having to walk to find a cab after the sun went down in a part of town that she wasn't familiar with. So they figured out what they wanted, and each time got the same thing. They ordered a box full of delicious tacos (that had a mystery white cheese melted on top, that in turn melted their brains because they were so good.), a bag of tortilla chips, and box of rice and beans. Sometimes when they finally made it back to the apartment, they had to be heated back up in the oven, but it was still worth it and just as good.

As the weeks went by, even though their schedules worked, Chloe was becoming more and more frustrated with not being able to find a job that wasn't waitressing. It's not that she refused to take those positions, but Beca had convinced her to hold out for something better, explaining how much work waiters and waitresses do for the crap amount of money they get. Beca wanted Chloe to really be able to save up some money, and that just wouldn't do it. In the mean time, Beca was still working at the bookstore, but was getting more and more restless. This wasn't what she wanted to be doing, but unlike before, she planned on doing something about it.

One afternoon, Dr. Sanchez had Beca talk more about her music. How she used to be so into it, and now, finally that passion was coming back. She even listened to a couple tracks that Beca was finished with and was comfortable letting another person hear, and that's what gave the Doctor an idea. One of her friends was a DJ at a club down the street. She'd talked to him and he was interested in hearing Beca's music for himself. Of course, she wasn't expecting it to go anywhere, just thought it would be cool to get some advice from an actual DJ. Instead, he offered for her to play some of her mixes for an hour one night.

At first she thought that he was pulling her leg, but he was serious. He wrote the address and time on the back of his business card, and told her that he'd put her on the list so she could get in. It was like a dream come true. This was a chance of a lifetime. But it was also a chance that she could totally blow. Sure, he liked her mixes, but would everyone else? And she'd have to put together a set! What the fuck was she going to play? This was all happening so fast, she didn't know what to do. As soon as she got home that night, she spilled the beans to Chloe, who was excited for her, even though she hadn't heard any of her music.

The brunette was quick to think of a remedy for that. The next day, Beca texted the DJ and asked if she could bring a friend. He agreed and said he'd put a "+1" next to her name. It was a great surprise, seeing as how bummed the redhead was about not being able to go see her. In addition to the surprise, it would also be nice for Beca, who would no doubt need to see those reassuring blue eyes so she didn't freak out too much. It was going to be one the the biggest night of her life, and she was so happy that she had someone that would be there for her, instead of having to go through it all alone, like she had been for so long.

* * *

><p>For the next few days, Beca worked tirelessly on putting together a set, even producing new mixes because she wasn't sure if her old ones would be good enough. If she wasn't pounding out new material, she was pacing around the apartment, freaking out. She didn't really know how Chloe put up with her, but she did. Each time calming her down, forcing her to take a break now and then, and ordering food because she'd forgotten to eat. By the time the night she'd been waiting for came around, she was confident her material was good. And you know what? If people didn't like it, who cares?<p>

She isn't going to change anything to make others happy anymore. So after Beca had gotten everything set up, she called Chloe and told her that she forgot her headphones, which she left on purpose. The redhead quickly found them discarded on Beca's night stand, then raced down the stairs of the apartment building, not wasting any time on waiting for the elevator, and hailed a cab, trying to get to the club in time. When she got there, she texted the brunette, and the girl came out and, to Chloe's surprise, dragged her into the club without a peep from the bouncer. She had no idea what was happening, but she couldn't really complain.

They entered the club, and the smell of sweat and alcohol greeted them. It was dark, but had colorful purple and blue lights flashing all over the place as the crowd danced to the music. It was like nothing Chloe had ever seen before. She's never been in a club before, and certainly never thought she would be...ever. But as long as Beca was with her, the experience wasn't as overwhelming as it would have been in any other situation. A warm hand tugged on hers, and they made their way around the outskirts of the room, and made their way over to the DJ station, which was elevated maybe ten feet off the floor.

Beca gestured for her to follow her up the metal ladder to the booth, so she did, no questions asked, though she had so many swirling around in her head. Being above the crowd was a strange thing. A sea of people, all moving differently to the beat of the music. The current DJ was bopping his head in time with the beat, big headphones covering his ears. When he noticed Beca was there though, he smiled and adjusted some settings before taking the headphones off and coming over to them. She learned that his name was Tony. He was a tall, hispanic guy with luscious black hair that any woman would be jealous of.

He also had one of the kindest smiles that Chloe had ever seen. Even if she didn't know that this man was giving Beca the chance to get her music out there, just from the vibe that he was unconsciously putting out, she could tell that he was a nice person. After short introductions were made, he and Beca were going over everything once more before it was her time. Even though the brunette knew how to work everything, she needed a once over so that her nerves wouldn't get the best of her and screw something up. But all it took was just looking over at the redhead and her heart calmed itself in her chest.

Within just ten minutes, Tony lowered the volume of his music and introduced Beca. She hadn't known that he was going to do that, and she blushed at all the people that were now looking at her. He signed off, letting everyone know that he'd be back in an hour, and shifted all the focus and control over to the short woman. There were whoops and hollers, though she didn't exactly know why, no one knew who the hell she was. But it gave her some confidence. Plugging in her headphones and letting her music speak for itself. The bass thumping and vibrating throughout the club, feeling it through her shoes. It was better than she imagined.

* * *

><p>The next hour passed way too fast for Beca's liking, as her mixes were the heartbeat of the club, never slowing down, keeping everyone moving. Chloe watched and listened in amazement. She knew Beca had to be good to get a shot like this, but this passed all of her expectations. It was also good to see the brunette doing something that made her smile, rather than lounge around the apartment doing nothing. She'd seen such a change in the girl since they met. A good change. When they had met, Beca looked drained all of the time, now after her meds kicked in, and she'd been making progress with her therapist, the girl seemed more free.<p>

And she was. Beca was totally in her element, and loving it. She felt so in her own groove, that when the hour was up, she couldn't believe what she'd just accomplished. Tony came back to the booth, gave her a huge hug that was accompanied by a huge smile, and told her how awesome she did. As her last mix faded out and she started to pack her things, Tony got on the mic and thanked her for taking over for him, and to her surprise, received a round of applause and whistles. As he set his music to play, he

"I got a position open over at my radio station, if you're interested." He said into her ear so she could hear over the loud music. "It's more like a paid internship, but you can work your way up to eventually playing some of your mixes on air. How's that sound?"

Beca was speechless. "I-uh, sounds amazing!"

He laughed. "I'll text you more about it tomorrow."

And with that, the two girls made their way down the ladder and onto the club floor. On their way out, many people stopped to ask Beca about her music, like how much they loved it and where they could listen to more. Though the girl didn't have an answer to the latter, she accepted the compliments with a blush before continuing to make her way toward the doors. If it were anyone else, they might have stayed a little longer and gotten a drink, but Chloe didn't like alcohol, so she wasn't going to make her uncomfortable by staying any longer than she had to. They exited into the chilly night, giggling about the experience as they stumbled down the street.

"I'm so proud of you." Chloe said as they stopped at a corner, waiting for a taxi to come by.

Beca blushed and lowered her head, letting her wavy hair fall out from behind her ear and hide her face like a curtain. She really didn't know what to say. She couldn't remember the last time that anyone had uttered those words to her, not even her Mother. It meant a lot coming from Chloe. Then yet another unexpected thing happened. Beca felt fingers move her hair aside, and a warm palm cup her face. She closed her eyes, sinking into the feeling. Thinking that this night couldn't get any more perfect, a pair of soft lips pressed against hers. After a few seconds of being shocked, her body caught up with her brain and kissed back.

* * *

><p>The next evening, Tony texted Beca like he said he would, and offered her the job at the radio station. Even though she wanted it more than anything, she thought about what this would mean. It would be more leaving her job at the bookstore. It would be her leaving the past behind and starting the new life that she had always dreamed of having. And that scared her. She made it this far, yes, but would that be enough? Was her DJing the previous night just a fluke? Or could she really work her way up like Tony had promised, and let herself enjoy life and be happy for a change? After so long of wishing that her life was different, the answer was clear.<p>

And...she had an idea. When she went into work the next morning, Beca went straight to Wanda's office and told her about her current situation. The woman had noticed a shift in the girl recently and was delighted that she was finally happy, but was sad that she would be loosing her at the bookstore. That's where Beca's suggestion of Chloe came in. The brunette told her about the redhead living on the street until just recently, and that she couldn't find a well-paying job. She vouched for the girl and asked if Wanda would give her a chance and let her interview for her position. Of course being the good woman that Wanda is, she agreed.

Beca gave her two weeks notice, though Wanda said she didn't have to spend two more weeks there wasting her time when she could be working at the radio station. She ended up staying two more days, that way she could train Chloe on how to use the cash register, take inventory, and stock the books where they belong on the shelves. It was an easy job, but the redhead was completely ecstatic and grateful to both Wanda and Beca. She felt that she was finally on her way to putting her life back on track after it's been derailed for so long. And she fully intended on paying Beca back every cent that she borrowed while jobless.

She had been keeping track in a small notebook that she kept in her duffel bag. Unbenounced to the smaller girl, she'd been actively keeping track of just how much money she owed her. If Beca knew though, she would no doubt deny that she owned her anything, but Chloe was determined to make things right. It was only fair. Thankfully, with the bookstore job now, paying her back would be much faster. And they had a few discussions about finances, and now that they were both working should they get a bigger place. They weighed the pros and cons, taking their change in relationship into account, but finally agreed to move.

Not like it was a huge move or anything, just one floor up in their building, where the apartment had an extra bedroom. For now, they would be in separate rooms and still date, and if the time came that they wanted to share a room, they would, then turn the unused room into a guest bedroom/Beca's office where she could work on her mixes when they got a desktop. It all seemed to be falling into place perfectly. Sure, there were some bumps in the road along the way. Very large bumps, both girls would say. But they were stronger for working hard and getting past them, making them look forward to what the future held.

As Beca finally closed the door to their new apartment, she let out a breath. They hadn't had much to move, just both their clothes, Beca's computer/DJ equipment, the bed and living room sofa, the TV, and the few things they had in the fridge. She couldn't wait until they started putting their personal touches on things though. Picking out new curtains and towels never seemed like it would be something to look forward to, but here she is, debating to herself what color curtains would go best with the sofa. Walking over to said sofa, she plopped down and looked out her window. It was basically the same view as she had before, which was comforting.

Though something was different this time. She didn't feel the need to check in on those who lived just across the street. Now that she was actually living her life, she didn't feel the need to live through theirs anymore. She silently said goodbye to them, thanking them for keeping her company on the most lonely nights, but needing to move on now. Getting up, she closed the curtains, sealing her off from the outside world, just in time to feel Chloe come up behind her, wrapping arms around her middle, and placing a warm kiss on the skin where her shoulder and neck met. It tickled, but she loved the feeling. This was all she needed. Her and Chloe against the world.


End file.
